


Just A Touch Of Your Love

by DustinMcDreamy



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Clary Origin Story, Coming Out, Downworlders, Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Underage Teenagers Mentioned, Raphael Origin Story, Shadowhunters Canon, Simon Origin Story, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12255279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustinMcDreamy/pseuds/DustinMcDreamy
Summary: SOULMATE AU: At the age of thirteen, with a touch of your wrist, you can feel your soulmate's heartbeat, their emotions, and their energies. For some, this is a great blessing. However, it can be challenging when your soulmate isn't born yet, or if they don't have a heartbeat.





	Just A Touch Of Your Love

**1950**

 

    Raphael sat in front of the fireplace surrounded by his pregnant mother, father, and his siblings. It was Raphael's thirteenth birthday, technically, but they were all anxiously awaiting for the exact minute that Raphael had come out of his mother's womb. Only then would he receive his soulmate marking on his wrist. The mark he would receive would look identical to the mark of his soulmate, and it would resemble a figure or symbol that would serve significant in their meeting.

     Everybody knew the stories. When you touched your soul mate mark, you could feel their heartbeat. You could get a vague sense of their emotions, their thoughts, and their energy. It was a way to connect with them before you met. 

     "It's almost time, mijo," his mother encouraged. "How do you feel?"

     "Nervous, mama," Raphael replied. 

     "A mi tambien, mijo," she replied. "I don't want you to be disappointed if it's on your right wrist, ok?"

     A mark on your right wrist meant that you were born before your soulmate, and while you would still have the mark, you wouldn't be able to feel anything from your soulmate until they finally turned 13.

     "You should be happy to get a younger babe, hijo," his father said. "When I saw my mark on the right, I was es-static!"

     His mother groaned. "Cerdo!"

     "You married me," he replied.

     "Tell me again what your mark means, Mama," Raphael requested.

     His parents held out their wrists. His father was sitting on his mother's left, so the mark on his right wrist was right next to the identical mark on his mother's left wrist. There were three spirals with long waving tails, in a stair-step fashion. "It was windy that day. The gusts blew away my sunhat and I chased it. It slid and flew until it was stopped by your father. When he reached to hand the hat back to me, I tried to sneak a glimpse at his wrist because I thought he was muy guapo. And there it was, the same mark."

     "Your mother was quite the looker, hijo. I was so excited I would get to romance her," his father said seductively.

     "Gross," Raphael said in disgust as his mother shouted 'repugnante' and swatted at him. 

     "Are you still in love?" Raphael asked.

     "Yes, hijo. I just wish your father had some modales!" his mother exclaimed.

     "Always try and keep the romance exciting. Just because you get old, doesn't mean that you can't love like adolescentes!" his father exclaimed.

     "Oh hush! It is almost time!" his mother replied.

     Raphael held out both of his arms, palms up. His heart was racing. He hoped his mark was pretty, it would be on him forever. Suddenly, his right wrist began to glow, and he felt a buzzing sensation. When the light faded, there was a zig-zag that looked like four V's, with the middle two being half the size as the ones on the end.

     "The left wrist!" his little sister exclaimed. "They're old! Touch it touch it!"

     "No, you idiota, it's on his right, you're standing on the wrong side of him," one of his brothers corrected.

     "He's correct, Marisol. It is on my right wrist, I am older," Raphael said as he touched his mark with his other hand. "I cannot feel anything."

     "It is okay, mijo. This happens to half the whole world. You'll feel her when she gets her mark," his mother assured.

      But the moment never came. Each day was full of anxiousness, hoping he'd feel his soulmate. He wasn't sure how much older he was supposed to be, but the waiting was excruciating. When he was fourteen, he told himself that this was his year, a one year difference was cute. When he was fifteen, he told himself that two years was acceptable. When he was sixteen, he told himself that men were still frequently older than their brides, but people grew more concerned and more uncomfortable with the age difference. When he was seventeen, he was annoyed with the reactions, so he lied about feeling his soulmate. If he was talking to somebody new, that didn't know better, Raphael would lie and say he only had to wait a little over a year to feel his mate. Those that knew him were a little concerned, but most people didn't meet their soulmates until their twenties anyways, so it wasn't much of an issue. They were just relieved that he finally was going to have somebody.

     There were always occasional errors in the system. People who got marks, but they belonged to children who would die before their thirteenth birthday. This was only discovered because in death, the mark would appear. It was a cruel fate. Some believed it was a punishment from a previous life. Some believed you get the same soulmate and the same mark every lifetime, just every lifetime isn't guaranteed. Raphael assumed he was just unlucky. He was Catholic, and he believed that man dies once, is judged, and is either granted salvation in Heaven or damnation in Hell. However, he started to believe that he would meet his soulmate in heaven. That's what his mark meant: rays and beams of holy light pointed downward from above. It granted him peace of mind, but he would keep it to himself. He didn't want the others to worry. The only one that knew otherwise was his priest, whom Raphael confessed to every time he had to lie about his mark. And this is how it would be.

**1956**

Raphael was 19. He still lived at home to support his family, and be with them. A close family was important in his Mexican heritage. His parents had a passionate love life, and his mother was still plentifully fertile. He had many more younger siblings that needed more attention that his parents could constantly give them. He was an apprentice at a local tailor to help with the finances. Boys his age were still trying to woo women in their small town. Some wanted to be sexually experienced for their soulmates. Many refused to have sex for anyone other than their soulmates. Knowing that his soulmate was already in heaven, Raphael felt that there was no need to have any sexual relations. He never felt an attraction, knowing they would never be his love. And besides, premarital sex was a sin. His parents, as religious as they were, beat that into his consciousness enough times in his young teenage years. He was content knowing he would be a virgin for his life.

     His mother came in the doorway, returning from the market. She looked sad and afraid. Raphael quickly approached her and grabbed the bags from her hands. "Mama, what is wrong?"

     "Another child is missing, hijo," she said. "It was Annabella Pedroza's hija, Laura this time. That's the fifth child in the past two months. I do not want my children going out anymore. This is a terrible omen."

     "Mama, do not be afraid. Nothing is going to happen to a Santiago," Raphael reassured, cupping her face.

     She rested her hand on his in return. "I do hope so, hijo. We must pray to God for the safety of our little ones."

     "I will, mama, as well as for the safety of all the children in our town," Raphael promised.

     "What did I ever do to deserve such a sweethearted nino?" she asked.

     Raphael smiled at her. He loved his mother with all of his heart. Though their life was not ideal, her love was always sweet and caring. She never made him feel unloved or unwanted, as his soulmate mark often did. "Now that you're home to look after the little ones, is it alright if I make a quick trip over to the tailor? I need to speak with Señor Reyes."

     "Yes, of course. Just be back in time for ceña," she ordered.

     "I will, mama!" Raphael said as he headed out the door. It was a ways of a walk from his house to downtown, but Raphael loved the stretch. He loved seeing New York change over the course of the years. It was constantly growing. He liked the sunshine on his skin and the friendliness of the people around the town. He arrived at the store to see it closed. Señor Reyes shouldn't have had the store closed this early today. Raphael looked at the shop across from the tailor. The man who lived and worked there often did fortune teller readings and sold strange memorabilia and remedies, promising to ail any ailment or grant any wish. The man was nice enough, but Raphael was a good Catholic and wouldn't buy into that sinful, devilish witchcraft. Still, the man might know where Señor Reyes was. 

     "Our father who art in heaven, please forgive me for entering this unholy shop and keep the unholiness of witchcraft off of my soul. Amen," Raphael said as he gestured the father, son, and holy spirit threefold before he entered. The place smelled like a mixture of difference essences and teas. Raphael kept his eyes off of the items on the shelves, he just searched for the owner. 

     He reached the back part of the shop, where he heard some voices on the other side of a curtain.

     "I am sorry, Señor Reyes. I know you are faithful to your religion, and I know you are hurt, but I think in the long run, you would thank me for not using my magic to search for your son. And to be honest, even if I did, I don't think I could. I don't want to give you lies and false hope," the voice of the owner said.

     "You are a liar and a coward, Mr. Bane," the voice of Señor Reyes replied angrily. "I believe that you are being honest. I believe that you can't. And I believe that you help nobody. You are a con artist, a sinner, and a heretic! I should not have wasted my time!" 

     Señor Reyes busted out from behind the curtain, startling Raphael. Señor Reyes had tears in his eyes and his face was red. "Leave this damnation, Raphael. Do not trust the soothing promises of a snake." He quickly bolted past Raphael and left the store. Raphael stepped into the curtains and saw Magnus Bane at his fortune reading table, head in his hands. He looked up to see Raphael.

     "Mr. Santiago," Magnus said. "I'm surprised to see you in my store."

     "I was looking for Señor Reyes," Raphael replied.

     "You found him. Now you may go, before the unholiness of my store taints your soul." Magnus was tired and hurt after that encounter. Raphael felt pity. Despite his beliefs, he shouldn't have been yelled at.

     "Do not worry, I prayed before I entered," Raphael joked.

     Magnus was not amused. "I do not have the energy for this, Raphael. Please leave." 

     "Wait, I apologize. I wish to talk, sincerely. May I please sit?" Raphael asked. Magnus sighed and gestured to the client's chair. Raphael walked over and sat. "Is Diego missing too?"

     "Yes," Magnus said. "But let your boss tell you himself."

     "And your witchcraft isn't strong enough to help him?" Raphael asked.

     Magnus sighed and looked pensive at Raphael. "What do you believe? How strong do you believe my witchcraft, as you say, is?"

     Raphael looked at Magnus, who had a peculiar facial expression on him. He was looking as if he was testing Raphael, but God's tests were more important. Witchcraft was false and wrong. "No, I don't believe you have that power."

     Magnus nodded. "Now, let me ask a hypothetical. What if, hypothetically, I was powerful. More powerful than you believe, and I could do witchcraft that you couldn't even comprehend? What if I knew exactly where all of those children were and I had the powers to do something about it? With your religious background, what would your perception of me be?"

     Raphael looked at Magnus. The man was fanatical, and this question was impossible. He couldn't tell what Magnus was trying to get at or imply. This couldn't possibly be the case. Yet he came across as so sincere. Was it a sin to even consider the reality Magnus was proposing? Raphael couldn't bear to entertain this idea, yet here it was. "That power would make many people afraid of you."

     "Precisely," Magnus Bane. "I am trapped in a moral dilemma between saving the lives of children being hunted by a predator, and saving my own face selfishly within an extremely religious community."

     "You know where those kids are?" Raphael said. "Through your powers?"

     Magnus nodded. "I do."

     "And you lied to Señor Reyes about not being able to help?" Raphael asked.

     "What is the right thing to do? The man is religious. All of you Catholics treat me terribly. Am I not being selfless by keeping you all morally pure from engaging in my sinful witchcraft?" Magnus asked.

     "Lying is a sin too," Raphael replied. "Therefore, any option that involves lying is the wrong choice."

     Magnus sighed. "Alright, so dilemma one is more or less solved. That brings us to dilemma two."

     "Which is?" Raphael asked.

     "About sixty years ago, maybe a little more, a man named Bram Stoker wrote a story called  _Dracula._ Have you heard of it?"

     "I believe so, that was about a vampire," Raphael said.

     "How would you react knowing that there was a society that existed with vampires, individuals who practice witchcraft, and even individuals who shift into wolves? And the only reason it has been able to remain hidden is by a threat of a death sentence by humans who get fanaticized, as well as an army of angels who govern with strict laws how these demonic creatures may live?" Magnus asked.

     "I believe in angels and demons, but not like this," Raphael said.

     Magnus sighed. "Of course. Thank you for listening to my story, anyways. You may go."

     "Wait," Raphael said. "Aside from that stuff at the end, you implied you knew where this predator was. You must tell me."

     Magnus shook his head. "I am not going to tell you. It's unsafe and you are not prepared. There are qualified people working on it."

     Raphael stood up. "I will not stand by and let my siblings be at risk because you claim to know about this murderer and won't inform any authorities!" Raphael stormed out of the shop, wondering why he even wasted his time like Señor Reyes. When he got outside, a gang of guys were waiting outside Señor Reyes's shop.

     "Raphael Santiago," one of them said.

     "Mateo," Raphael replied. "What can I do for you?"

     "Andreas believes we found the pervert kidnapping the children. He said his little sister wanted him to take her to the abandoned Hotel Dumort to play so he could meet her imaginary friend. Then she was missing. We're going tonight with weapons to kill this motherfucker. We need boys. Are you in?" Mateo asked.

     "Yes," Raphael replied. "I'm in."

     Later that night, Raphael took his father's pistol and a large dagger. He was about to leave the house when his mother chased after him. "Mijo, what are you doing?"

     "Mateo, Andreas, and a group of other guys think they know where that kidnapper is hiding. The Hotel Dumort. Since it's abandoned, and the police are all white, they don't care. There's ten of us, ma, the guy is no match," Raphael said.

     She started to cry and hold him. "Don't go, por favor mijo. It isn't safe."

     "Someone has to stop this guy before he comes after our family, Ma," Raphael insisted. "I said there's ten of us and one of him."

     With tears in her eyes, her trembling hand reached into her pocket and pulled out a golden rosary. "Take this with you. It'll keep you safe."

     "Thank you, Ma," Raphael said as he kissed her forehead. "I must go."

     Raphael exited the house and grouped up with the men who were going to strike down the predator. There were twelve of them together, and Raphael felt confident. They all seemed to be eager. 

     "Let's kill this bastard," Mateo ordered. They hiked through the town and beyond as they headed to the secluded area that the Hotel Dumort rested in. They say it closed because of a deadly massacre. The city could never tear it down because they didn't have the building rights, but nobody knew who had it.

     The building was easy enough to break into. Everything was old and dusty. Everything was abandoned, but there were footprints left in the dust. Someone had been here.

     "Should we split up?" Mateo asked.

     "No," Raphael said. "We don't know for sure if it's one guy, or what weapons he has."

     "But we can split up in groups and cover more ground," Andreas said. "This place is huge."

     "And then we will get picked off, we'll never find one another. We'll never know who is missing until it's too late," Raphael insisted. "I made a promise to my mother that I'd be safe and return."

     A few more steps into the parlor and Raphael felt a rush of wind. He saw a shadowy figure blur by them and launch into two of the guys, sending them flying. The other guys drew their guns, but they could not shoot fast enough, not that they knew what they were aiming at. Their weapons were knocked out, and they were pushed back into walls, falling unconscious. Raphael drew his dagger and backed away, watching as his allies got hit by the blur and collapse one by one. As soon as he was the only one left, he paused, looking for anyone else in the room.

     "You had the brains out of the group," an ominous voice echoed throughout the abandoned lobby. Raphael searched around, but couldn't see anyone in the dark. "Splitting up would have made things harder for me. I would have had to run around this entire house. But I am sorry about your promise to your mother. You're going to have to break that promise. Tonight, my friend, you are the winner of a new life."

     Raphael felt something grab his ankle, and it yanked him down. He was being dragged across the parlor floor at an alarming speed. He reached and clawed, hoping he would grab onto something to save himself. He was flipped over and saw the face of a demon with bright white sharp teeth. He felt a sharp pain in his neck, and then blackness.

     When Raphael regained consciousness, he immediately could feel something over his entire body. He inhaled, and dirt flew up his nose. He didn't choke or suffocate on the dirt, though. He started to panic, causing him to squirm, crawl, claw, and kick. The dirt felt loose, and was easily being pushed away. His hand felt like it breached a surface, and he felt grass on his hand. He started to climb his way up and he made a big enough hole that he was able to crawl out into what looked like a garden.

     There was a man standing there, clapping. "Bravo, my boy! I knew you had the strength to survive the process. I am Louis," the man said. "I know you must have a lot of questions." And that was true. So many thoughts were rushing through his head. What happened to his friends? What happened to him? Why was he buried alive? Was this asshole the one who buried him? The one who killed the children? The sensory overload was too much for Raphael. His attacker was walking towards him with his arms open. Raphael's instincts to defend himself kicked in, and he struck his attacker in the neck. 

     Raphael was expecting the punch to make Louis stumbled back and heel over from the blow. What he wasn't expecting was his fist to completely rip the man's neckline causing his head to peel backwards off of the body, leaving the body to collapse. 

     Raphael stood, shocked, and distraught. Everything was happening so fast. The attack on his friends, the attack on himself, and now he had just murdered a guy with his fist. How was that possible? He took a deep breath to calm down, but his breath felt funny. It was difficult for him to explain. It felt different in his mind and in his chest. It was probably just stress. He was overthinking everything. He had to focus one one thing at a time. Just one thing.

     There was a smell, one Raphael had never smelt before. It reminded him of his mother's cooking, or the bakery's fresh goods of the day. He looked down at the decapitated man, the pool of blood oozing out into the garden. Raphael felt immense starvation in hi stomach, and something inside him told him to feast. He knelt down and started to gnaw and devour the flesh off of the neck of his assailant. It satisfied. but the meat was mediocre. The truly delicious part was the blood, but too much was spilled out on the dirt. He needed more.

     Raphael's mind flashed to the others who were attacked in the parlor. These were neighborhood boys Raphael knew growing up, but right now, he only felt rage and hunger. They brought him here. He sped into the hotel, searching. He was amazed at how fast he could move, but he didn't think about that now. Right now, he just had to feed. He found his way back to the main entryway. The bodies were gone, but their scent still lingered. Raphael followed his instincts and ended up in a basement that looked like a torture chamber. The guys were all chained to walls, or in cages. There were severed appendages on the floor, significantly smaller than an adult's size.

     "Raphael's alive!" Mateo cheered when he saw Raphael enter the room. The boys all started to make a commotion before they saw the blood on Raphael's mouth, and the wild look on his eyes.

     "God help us," Andreas said. Raphael sped towards Mateo, chained by his hands to a wall, and attacked him first, feeding on his neck in front of the entire gang. They screamed, and tried to break their bars of confinement. Once Raphael finished feasting on Mateo, he clawed and ripped up Mateo's chest until he was dead. One by one, Raphael continued to pick off the lads he was with, feasting before killing them. He saved the guys in the cages for last, getting to them by prying the bars wide with his bare hands. 

     Raphael had finally finished eating from the last dead boy that his hunger had finally gone away, and he was left with the horrifying reality of his situation. "What have I done? Please forgive me G-" he began to choke, blood resurfacing through his throat as he tried to mention his deity. "Por favor di-" same with spanish, he could not reference his creator at all.

     He began to cry and wail at the horrifying thought of what he had become. He wasn't even positive what that was at the moment. All he knew is that he had done something heinous and violent. He somehow heard the front door open, several stories up, and the footsteps were slow and careful as they approached. Raphael didn't care. He could be slain right now, and he would be free from this terrible night.

     "Oh my sweet Raphael," Magnus's voice said, looking around the bloodied room, assessing the damage that had been done. 

     "What is happening to me?" Raphael cried out.

     Magnus approached Raphael and hugged him in a tight embrace. "Everything is going to be alright, Raphael. Let's take you somewhere safe." Magnus stood up and waved his hand, opening a portal in front of their eyes. Raphael gasped and crawled backwards, but Magnus reached his hand out to him. Raphael looked at him, afraid and hesitant of the unknown. But he looked over at the corpses he had created, and the red sea of blood that had coated every visible inch of the floor. He took Magnus's hand and got up off of the floor, and walked with Magnus into the portal.

     It was multiple hours of talking. Discussing angels, demons, shadowhunters, warlocks, vampires, werewolves, and fair folk. There was small comfort in knowing that there was tangible proof to his religious beliefs, but there was shame knowing he now walked with the demons. He looked at his soulmate mark on his right wrist for the first time in years.

     "I'm immortal?" Raphael asked.

     "As long as you live a safe life and feed regularly," Magnus replied.

     Raphael continued to stare down at his mark, expecting it to change for whatever reason. "How old are you?"

     "I'm in my early four hundreds. So, old enough to know better, but young enough to still have fun," Magnus joked, helping the ease the situation.

     "Has your soulmate even been born yet?" Raphael asked.

     Magnus's fun smile gently turned downwards as the conversation took another serious turn. "No, not yet. At least, more than likely not," Magnus replied. 

     Raphael sighed. "I have tried so hard to repress that need. I always found comfort in believing that my soul mate was dead, and I would meet her in the afterlife. And now, as if waiting sixty years for death wasn't bad enough, I might have to wait hundreds?"

     Magnus looked at Raphael with pity as well as empathy. "Waiting never exactly gets easier, but it does get easier to manage. For me, I like to party, have fun, casually date other immortals while we wait centuries for our lovers. I can sense that isn't quite your style, though."

     "So what do I do with my life now? I can't go back to my family like this. Everything I did, I did for them," Raphael said.

     "We'll find you a new family," Magnus said. "That terrible man Louis drove the other vampire clan who lived in the hotel out. The clan actually did a lot of work for the community, protecting them, hunting criminals."

     "The children of the night chase away the fright," Raphael mumbled.

     "What was that?" Magnus asked.

     "Part of a poem mothers would say to their children when they were afraid, but they always insisted the neighborhoods were safe because of children of the night would protect them so children of the day could always play," Raphael replied.

     "Help raise the clan, Help protect your family for years to come," Magnus said.

     Raphael continued to sit on the couch and contemplate. He tried to pull the rosary from his breast pocket, but he shouted in pain as his hand touched it. Magnus quickly rushed over and pulled it out of his pocket for him. 

     "I can teach you how to hold this again, and say God again. We can work together at getting your humanity back. Then you'd be ready to see your family again, and your soulmate," Magnus comforted.

     Raphael nodded his head. "I would like that very much."

     And that was how Raphael spent his years as an immortal downworlder. A vampiress named Camille and some of the other runaways came back to New York to continue protecting the neighborhoods. For his efforts, Raphael was quickly promoted through the ranks as he was constantly proving himself. Raphael practiced holding his rosary while thinking of his faith, and his family. Magnus would heal his hand, and Raphael would continue. Magnus would read the bible to Raphael until Raphael could look at its pages directly by himself, but the sight would often hurt his eyes, and the words were always scrambled in his head. Another one of his religious tests, Raphael would sit shirtless, and Magnus would place the rosary around his neck. Raphael would try to bury the pain as long as he could, but would scream at the top of his lungs until Magnus could pull it off him.

     "This is taking too slow," Raphael said in exhaustion one day.

     "This is a multiple year process, Raphael. It's only been about four," Magnus replied.

     "I want to see my family," Raphael said.

     "If you really want to, nothing is stopping you," Magnus suggested.

     "No," Raphael insisted. "This is not something I can cheat on. That isn't something Go-" he took a deep breath. "Gaw-haAaAwwD would approve of."

     "At least that's getting better, but saying 'God' again  _is_ the easiest task of them all," Magnus said. "You keep your thoughts on your family at all times?"

     "Yes," Raphael replied, annoyed at the accusation.

     "Maybe there's something we're missing. Some other anchor to prove that you still have a soul in you," Magnus said aloud, sharing his thoughts to the open.

     Raphael sat and pondered on Magnus's words. "Soul," he said, drawing out the syllables sharply, putting emphasis on the word. He held up his wrist and rolled down his sleeve, revealing his mark. He looked at it analytically. He always thought they were beams of light from heaven. "Soulmate. My soulmate's mark is a set of vampire teeth."

     Magnus paused, stunned, before quickly approaching Raphae and examining his wrist. "I believe you might be right. So not only is your soulmate in your life now that you're a vampire, the vampirism might directly be related."

     "And I need to get this vampirism under control if I'm ready to have a soulmate," Raphael said.

     "Let's try using your soulmate as a new anchor," Magnus said. Raphael nodded.

     That year showed faster progress than the past four ever did. He was holding onto his rosary as he read the bible on his own, distracting himself from the pain, thinking about the love he might share with someone some day. As each day passed, the pain got duller and more manageable. Raphael was ready for the next step. He was shirtless, and Magnus placed the rosary around his neck. Wearing it always hurt more than merely holding it, and he had developed some scarring on his chest from where the pendant rested.

     "How does it feel?" Magnus asked.

     "It hurts," Raphael said with a straight face.

     "Want me to remove it?" Magnus asked.

     "No. I'm going to wear this through the night," Raphael insisted. Raphael spent hours just lounging on the couches, roaming around Magnus's loft, focusing through the pain. He would touch his wrist, and imagine what he might get to feel one day when he touched it. The hours crept by slowly. Raphael meditated through the pain, rubbing his soulmate mark. The soulmate he didn't know he was getting. He didn't like living this life as a vampire. He wanted to end it as soon as it started. But Raphael was determined- determined to meet his soul mate.

     It had become morning. The sun was barely visible through Magnus's magically tinted windows. Magnus entered the living room to see Raphael still awake, sitting on the couch, touching his soulmate mark.

     "Did you keep that on all night?" Magnus asked, concerned. Raphael simply nodded in response, not looking at Magnus, not showing any emotion on his face. Magnus approached Raphael in awe before a giant smile crept on his face. Raphael started to grin as well as Magnus pulled him in for a tight embrace. "You're ready!"

     "Not just yet," Raphael replied as he and Magnus held onto each other. "There is one more test I would like to try." 

     That night, Magnus and Raphael arrived at the nearest church. Raphael and Magnus stood on the other side of the street. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Magnus asked. "Isn't it overkill at this point?"

     Raphael shook his head. "I would like to come to church again one day. Many children these days fuss and complain about having to sit through sermon. Little do they know how much some of us would love to have that back."

     "At least let's do baby steps. Let me hold your rosary and bible," Magnus insisted, holding out his arms.

     "I need to prove to God that I am devoted to him. I need to show I am faithful. I will not take any easy way out," Raphael replied. Magnus sighed. He did not believe God cared or was watching Raphael specifically. He wasn't even sure if God was a being, let alone Angels- they haven't been seen in hundreds of years. But this was something Raphael needed for himself, so he would allow it.

     Raphael crossed the street over to the holy grounds. He took a deep breath, not that it was needed, and slowly and carefully stepped on the grounds. His legs felt immense heat and cramping. He felt his lungs constrict as if he was hiking for hours in the desert. Raphael began to collapse and Magnus quickly teleported him back to safety, healing him in just a few short seconds.

     "Maybe we overshot this," Magnus said.

     Raphael shook his head. "Again." Raphael didn't go slowly this time; he sped through the grounds to to the opposite street, far from Magnus. He gave himself a moment to catch his breath and he sped through again, just not as quickly. Everytime he dashed through, he decreased his pace to increase the expose to the holy grounds. 

     "Let me heal you, Raphael," Magnus ordered.

     Raphael shook his head. He looked exhausted doing it. "Assistance from another downworlder isn't what I need right now," Raphael gasped. 

     "I can't let you do this to yourself," Magnus retorted. 

     "Devotion to God requires sacrifice," Raphael said. "If religion was easy, everyone would do it. I cannot take any easy way out." Raphael lined himself up with the holy field, staring down the green grass intently. "The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and are safe. Proverbs 18:10." Raphael sped into the holy land, and paused himself right in the center, facing the church doors. Intense pain filled his body. He wanted to scream, but suppressed the feeling. "Do not grieve, for the Lord is your strength. Nehemiah 8:10." His legs started to shake. He took a deep breath and steadied his focus. 

     "RAPHAEL!" Magnus screamed! "It will kill you! Let me teleport you!"

     Raphael considered it, just for a moment. What if Magnus was right? What if he was so far gone, and this was foolish? What if he was pushing himself too far and he misinterpreted what he had to do? He felt himself getting weaker and weaker. He didn't want to die. He saw Magnus, waiting for Raphael to give him a signal of any kind. When he blinked, he saw his mother.

     "Mother?" Raphael asked.

     She smiled at him and stepped closer. "Do not fear," she said. "Do not be dismayed, for I am your God." She took another step closer and was right by Raphael's face, but Magnus could still be seen to the side. She ran her right hand across Raphael's cheek. "I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

     Raphael looked over to Magnus. "Raphael, say something!" Magnus yelled. 

     Raphael only felt seconds of life within him left. He looked back at the image of his mother and smiled at her. She disappeared from Raphael's sight and with Raphael's last breath, he collapsed onto the holy ground.

     "RAPHAEL!" Magnus screamed as his hands danced to conjure his friend back to him. But no ward appeared, and Raphael's body didn't move. "NO!" Magnus warlock sped across the street to approach Raphael. He got on the ground and held his friend in his arms. "Raphael, please, please," Magnus cried.

     Raphael's eyes quickly opened and he gasped for air as he reached out to grab Magnus. Magnus hugged him tightly and tried to stop the tears that had been flowing. Magnus warlock sped the two of them back across the street. "You are a fool," Magnus said through his watery eyes.

     Raphael smiled at his friend. "No," he insisted. "I don't feel anything from the rosary or the bible now, and I woke up fully recovered. My faith was tested and I passed."

     Curious, Magnus stuck his finger in Raphael's mouth, pushing his upper lip upwards. There were still fangs in place. "I figured there was a chance that...whatever that was...could have reversed you."

     Raphael smiled a bittersweet smile and sighed. "I don't need to be anything else. I am at peace with who I am."

     Magnus smiled. "Then let's go see your mother."

     Magnus was the one to knock on the door. Guadalupe opened it, and hugged Magnus when she saw him. "I haven't received a letter from you in a while. I was wondering something happened."

     Magnus smiled at the woman. "I didn't write because I had a surprise that I knew would be ready soon. Can you walk with me?"

     Guadalupe's eyes and smile lit up. "Is he here?"

     Magnus tried to fight his smile as to not give anything away. He merely grabbed her hand and guided her. "Just come with me." Magnus led Raphael's mother around the corner where Raphael was standing, nervously under the bright moonlight. He choked up when he saw her, for she had aged a handful of years since the last time he laid eyes on her, but he knew he would look the same,a side from being a slightly lighter shade. 

     "Mi corazon!" she exclaimed as she ran towards him and hugged him. Raphael was so overcome with emotion that he began to cry. Raphael quickly pushed his mother back and hid his face.

     "Don't look at my face," he said as wiped away his tears, tainted by blood, one of the worse side effects about vampirism. Only a monster would shed blood from its eyeballs That was not the imagery he wanted to present to his mother.

     "Raphael, you are my son." Guadalupe stated. "Magnus has told me everything about every side effect. He's told me about how you've pushed yourself to continue your relationship with God even when you felt undeserving of his love. Yes, you are a vampire now, but you were my son first, and being my son comes first before you being a downworlder. I want to see my son's face that I haven't seen in nearly five years."

     Raphael took a deep breath, quickly drying as much of his face as he could before turning around back at his mother. She didn't scream. She didn't run away. She didn't even flinch. She just cupped his face and kissed his forehead. "Please come back home."

     Raphael smiled, and grabbed his mother's hands, and looked into her eyes. "I will visit more, but there are others, struggling with their identities like I did. They need someone to care for. Plus, we have to protect these streets at night from the gangs. I'm working hard to make you proud, madre."

     "I know you are, hijo. I love you," she said.

     "I love you too," Raphael replied.

     And Raphael did visit often. He saw his mom, and his older siblings, once they had matured enough to be trusted with the truth. Years after believing he was dead, they were relieved to have him back in some form. The years went by, and they all aged, but Raphael never did. He saw them get married, have children, and Raphael was around less and less after that. His family was creating families of their own. He would take care of his aging mother, and when she passed, he was heartbroken. Raphael coped by pushing himself into growing and sustaining his vampire clan. Camille got lazier and more reckless and Raphael continued to pick up her pieces, but the can was doing well. His siblings slowly started to pass as well, and Raphael hurt, but Magnus was there to comfort him, and tell him that life would get easier. Raphael refused to get close to his sibling's grandchildren. He had enough family heartache, and he was pretty removed at that point.

     And then one day, it happened. The year was 2011. He and Magnus were in Magnus's parlor room when a pain struck Raphael in his arm, causing him to drop his glass onto Magnus's carpet. Magnus, being the empathetic and caring friend he was, waved his hand to magically cleaning his carpet before checking on his friend.

     "What's wrong, you imbecile?" Magnus asked.

     Raphael placed his hand on his right wrist and gasped. Through his fingertips, he felt a pulse that wasn't his own. He smiled widely until he caught a strange feeling. His partner was scared, afraid, and sad.

     "He doesn't think I'm alive," Raphael said.

 

* * *

 

 

**2011**

Clary, Luke, Jocelyn, his mother Elaine, and his little sister Rebecca all sat around a table with a lit birthday cake. It was Simon's thirteenth birthday, and he would be getting his soul mate mark.

     "Now, remember Simon," Elaine said. "Don't make the wish until you feel that warm glowing feeling in your wrist. Don't look at your wrists until after you've made your wish."

     "I'm so jealous you're older," Clary said. "I wish I was getting my soul mate mark too." 

     Deep down, Simon wanted his mark to be on his right wrist, because that would mean that there was a chance Clary was his soul mate, and he would find out for sure in a little over a year.

     "Hopefully you have an easy time finding your soulmate, Simon, and that yours isn't with another guy already because she's a part of some hipster movement where they try to find their own soulmates on their own," Luke teased, looking at Jocelyn.

     "Okay, don't even act like you didn't date anyone before me," Jocelyn argued back playfully.

     "I didn't  _date_ them," Luke joked.

     "Then what did you do?" Clary asked.

     "Nothing," all three adults said unanimously.

     "I forgive you though, babe, because I love Clary with all of my heart, and I wouldn't trade her for anyone else," Luke said.

     Jocelyn responded by kissing Luke on the cheek.

     Clary and Simon made noises of disgust. Simon turned to his mom eagerly. "How much longer?"

     She smiled and looked at her watch. "I believe we have less than a minute, get ready!"

     Simon turned back to his cake and waited. The anticipation was making him anxious. He had his wish ready: marry Clary. Suddenly, he felt electrified and tingly, a light began to glow under the table. He took a deep breath and blew out his candles. As his family all clapped, Simon eagerly lifted up his wrists and flipped them over. He instinctively looked at the right one, since he was older than Clary. To his disappointment, it was blank. His eyes shifted gaze to the left wrist, and there was a zig zag pattern on his skin.

     "Woah!" Clary and Rebecca exclaimed, never having seen this process before. 

     "So you're younger," Luke said. "That means that right now, for the first time, your soul mate will be able to feel you. I wonder how long they've been waiting."

     "Hopefully the age gap isn't too large," Elaine said. "Go on, Simon, touch it!"

     Simon took a deep breath. Whoever this was, it wasn't Clary, and Simon wasn't sure how to feel about that. He didn't get along with others well, and he was worried about getting along with someone other than Clary. Plus, it was going to be so easy when, at Clary's birthday party, she realized it was Simon. They wouldn't have to search. Who knew who this person was or when and where Simon would find them?

     But Simon placed his fingers on his mark anyways. It felt cold, and empty. Simon couldn't make sense of any emotion. He couldn't feel their heartbeat. "What do you feel, Simon?" Elaine asked.

     Simon wasn't quite sure what to say. He couldn't understand what he was feeling. He had heard the occasional rumor where it was possible to get a soulmate who already passed away. That's what the cold felt like. He remembered at his father's funeral- he had tried to hold his dad's hand through the open casket. He remembered that cold, dry skin feeling. It etched in his mind that day, and it was back now. He was sure of it. But he looked at his mother, at Luke and Jocelyn, and Clary. They were all so happy for him and expectant. They wanted some good news. Simon didn't even know how to convincingly lie about this.

     "It feels funny, and warm," he said. The adults laughed and smiled, hugging Simon in a large group embrace.

     "That's what love feels like. It feels like a hug," Elaine said. Simon faked a smile for his family, but deep down he was crushed. Simon touched it several times a day the upcoming weeks. He was hoping there'd be a change, of something. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and was wrong, but nothing ever seemed to change. There was just cold emptiness. 

     He was sixteen before he finally told Clary. Clary was a hopeless romantic. She was so pure and good for this world. She was always saying things like she didn't want to date until she met her soulmate, especially after knowing the story about her mother, Luke, and her biological father. Deep down, Simon hoped he he could find a group like 'The Circle' that was open to dating. He didn't want to be a single virgin for life. And he was still in love with Clary, so he would agree with all of her romantic, naive, optimistic outlooks on dating, subconsciously hoping she might fall for him and give him a chance. But her mark was different. Hers looked like a diamond with ram horns. It was pretty, but not his mark.

     "So Eric Hillchurch is having a party tonight, and I want to go, but I do not want to go alone," Clary said. "Simon, will you pretty pretty pretty please go with me?"

     "I am a giant nerd," Simon replied. "I don't do parties with alcohol and trashy music. I do parties with a tank, a healer, a mage, and a warrior."

     "And you're so much of a nerd that I understand what those are," Clary teased. "You are the warrior, and will charge into that party, unafraid. Alcohol is your healer, ailing you of your social anxieties. And I will be your tank, defending you from the worst the party has to offer."

     Simon scoffed. "What's the mage?"

     Clary bit her lip and looked pensive, before her eyes lit up as if she had an idea. "Mage you consider my offer?" 

     Simon laughed at how ridiculous Clary's expression was, as if she was pleading with Simon to let that joke slide. "That's the worst joke I've ever heard in my life." 

     "Come on, getting drunk will be fun!" Clary said. 

     Simon hesitated, but he knew that he would do anything for Clary. "Alright, fine. I'll go. But if it blows, you owe me."

     "Pizza and wings on me," Clary promised.

     Simon fumbled around his closet that night, stressing about what to wear. He really shouldn't have been, but he didn't want to be seen as the same loser as always. He finally came across his black tank top. He wasn't allowed to wear it at school because some really awesome girls had a petition made that was signed by every girl in the school, as well as some of the guys, stating that the bulging muscles and armpit hair that was exposed when men wore tank tops was a distraction to the learning environment since women were just as horny as men. They even went as far as using a quote from the superintendent against him when he once said high schoolers on their periods are impossible to deal with and we need to keep them focused at all time, or some misogynistic bullshit like that when they tried to make a rule saying the girls couldn't leave class to go go to the bathroom to replace their products, and it could only be done during passing periods. They succeeded because the superintendent was on thin ice.

     But Simon rarely got the occasion to wear it. He really only wore it on his lazy days at home. Clary has never seen him wear it, let alone know he owns it. Secretly, he liked how his arms and torso looked in it. He wasn't buff, but had slight muscular definition in his arms, and it hugged onto him nicely. He just hoped he wasn't going to look like a complete douche.

     Clary came over to pick Simon up, even though they were walking. It was only a few blocks away. Clary's jaw dropped when she saw Simon in his tank top and his styled-messy-on-purpose hair. Simon got self-conscious and paused. "Do I look stupid? Do I look like a douche? A poser? Am I ridiculous? Am I going to get made fun of? Should I change? I should change. Be right back, I'm gunna go change."

     Clary quickly took a step forward and was shaking her hands, the universal gesture for 'calm the fuck down, Simon'. "No, you look super cool. Actually, you sort of look...hot." Simon's eyebrow raised. Clary rolled her eyes. "I don't want to make it weird, but your future soulmate is a lucky girl. Guy. Person."

     Simon gave Clary a surprised look. "Guy? You think I like guys?"

     Clary looked like she was at a loss for words. "I'm......sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I thought maybe, yes, you were a little into Matt Charlton. You two are always buddy buddy. I wasn't sure. I made an assumption, I was wrong, I'm sorry."

     Simon did have a good bond with Matt, and the man wasn't unattractive. He did have a lot of the same interests as Simon did, plus he made Simon laugh a lot. And Simon would be lying if he said he didn't occasionally focus on the guy (or guys) in the porn more than a straight man should.

     "I....will.....put a pin in this conversation for now," Simon said with a conflicted expression on his face. "Let's head to the party."

     They walked about a half hour to get to the party. They didn't discuss the conversation they just had. They just talked about anything else, and everything else, like they always did. They got to the party and they were positively welcomed, even Simon. He was a little surprised to be honest, he thought more people disliked him than they did. Perhaps he was too paranoid. 

     "Let's get some drinks," Clary encouraged, leading him to the kitchen. There was a bit of a crowd, but eventually they got their red solo cups full of jungle juice. "Cheers," she said as they clinked their glasses. They headed to the less crowded basement where people looked like they were playing games like spin the bottle and other harmless party games. Clary and Simon sat on the couch when Matt sat down next to Simon.

     "Lewisssss," he said, already a few drinks into the night. "You're looking good, buddy. Suns out, guns out huh?" He sort of poked his finger into the low cut area of Simon's tank top, but sort of just traced teasingly across the skin. It made Simon's heartbeat flutter a little as he was feeling a little intrigued by the man's touch. Clary pretended not to notice and drank her juice. He brought his finger down to gently pull at the low neckline of his tank top, but once his finger slipped easily, he kept his hands back to himself and gave his attention to Clary.

     "Clary! How are you?" he asked. Simon quickly took a large gulp of his drink.

     "I'm doing good Matt, how are you?" Clary asked.

     "Better now I know that I got some more friends here to get drunk with," he said, looking at Simon.

     "You've had plenty," Simon replied, trying to detour the conversation. 

     "You need more," he said with a certain smile that Simon found to be captivating.

     "Wonderful idea, let me grab us some refills," Clary said as she bolted up and headed to the stairs.

     "My cup is full, Clary! CLARY!"

     Matt chuckled. "Looks like you better drink up." He gently cupped Simon's hand that had been holding his drink and guided it to Simon's face. Simon began to drink it quickly, and Matt briefly grazed Simon's arm as he brought his hand back to himself. 

     "Are you flirting with me, Matt?" Simon asked.

     Matt looked at him and bit his lip. "I don't know, man. I'm just...drunk, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Matt began to stand up, and Simon was conflicted about his presence. He instinctively grabbed onto Matt's hand and Matt looked at the two of their hands together before looking back at Simon with awe.

     "Stay," Simon said. Matt slowly sat back down next to Simon. They were looking at each other. 

     "I think you're cool, Simon," Matt said shyly. "I mean, we get along."

     "Right," Simon agreed.

     "We like all the same things."

     "Even the nerdy stuff."

     Simon smiled from the humor. "Yup, yes we do."

     Matt looked at him with vulnerability. "I like your smile, a lot. The only thing better than it would be my lips against it."  Simon blushed and looked away. "Too far?"

     Simon nervously looked back at Matt. "No no, I'm flattered, I'm really flattered. It's just, I haven't really thought about........guy feelings....really. At all. Not at all, like barely. But everyone thinks of it barely, you know. It's natural. Guys can find guys hot, right? I just haven't really-"

     "Simon," Matt interrupted. "It's ok, you don't have to explain."

     "But I'm....interested in seeing if I'm interested," Simon replied.

     Matt raised an eyebrow and his smile got cocky. "Really?"

     "Yeah, but would you be totally offended if I had a bit more alcohol in my system first?" Simon asked.

     Matt laughed. "No, by all means. Get on my level." 

     The two of them stood up in unison and Matt got close and whispered something in his ear. "And once you're on my level, I'll go down a level on you." Matt slid his hand down Simon's back, not getting to his ass since there were people around, but it made Simon physically aroused. Simon grabbed Matt's hand and led him upstairs to grab a drink. Once Simon was feeling buzzed and reckless, the two of them snuck away upstairs to find an empty bedroom.

 

 

* * *

 

   

     Raphael laid on the couch at Magnus's. It had been three years since his soulmate had his mark, meaning they were sixteen. Raphael was rubbing his soulmate mark, looking concerned. Magnus looked up from pouring his martini to see a conflicted expression on Raphael's face.

     "What's wrong, darling?" Magnus asked.

     "I think my soulmate's having sex right now," Raphael replied.

     Magnus was thankful Raphael wasn't looking at him. His face contorted, wanting to laugh, but Magnus repressed the urges and worked on his caring poker face. "And how does that make you feel?"

     Raphael contemplated the question as he continued to massage his mark. Even after nearly eighty years, Raphael hadn't experienced a desire to engage in sex with anyone. Even after the past three years, knowing his soulmate existed, the thought never crossed his mind. They were a minor, still, and Raphael's only desire was to meet them. He had never thought about if they would wait for him, as many people did, even though some individuals still were into hookup culture. He had never considered this possibility.

     "I don't know what to think of it," Raphael said.

     "Are you sad? Angry? Jealous?"

     "I'm not really sure," he replied. "They aren't mine  _yet._ I know I'll be with them someday. I don't think I'd want to judge them for their past. Hopefully they won't judge me for mine."

     "You keep saying they, how very interesting," Magnus said.

     "It's a perfectly acceptable gender neutral pronoun," Raphael responded.

     Magnus scoffed. "Yes, I am aware of that, Raphael. Thank you," he said sarcastically. "You don't know what you're into?"

     "I've never been into anyone," Raphael replied. "I assumed as a kid I'd be with a girl. When I thought I had no soul mate, I didn't care anymore. I never really thought about it. They've always been a vague abstract. But right now, I'm feeling......that he's a a boy......"

     "Welcome to the fabulous side of the rainbow, darling," Magnus said cheerfully. "We do brunch and have the best parades."

     "I can't go to a parade, dipshit," Raphael retorted with small hostility. Magnus rolled his eyes.

     "Well I hope your soulmate fucks you, you're always so uptight," Magnus teased.

     "I want to throw something at your head right now," Raphael threatened.

     "You only have two hands, and you're throwing a fit with both," Magnus said.

* * *

 

     Simon and Matt laid in the bed of the guest room naked, relaxing after they lost their virginities to each other. There was an awkward tension in the atmosphere.

     "So we did that," Matt said.

     "Yes we did," Simon said with a laugh. Matt smiled.

     "I hope that laughter's a good sign that this isn't weird," Matt said.

     "Naw, it isn't weird. That was fun. That was  _a lot_ of fun," Simon replied, beaming with happiness.

     "Would you......wanna do this again sometime?" Matt asked.

     Simon smiled. "Yeah, I would."

     Matt smiled back at him. "Would you want to keep it physical or would you be interested in like,....dating?" Matt asked.

     Simon looked back at the other guy, who looked very nervous at him. This was a bit of a confidence booster for Simon. "You want to date me?"

     "Well I mean, we hang out every now and then, and we have a good time. It would just be like, hanging out...more, and...seeing more movies and doing more dinners I guess," Matt said.

     Simon smiled, pulling Matt in close with a kiss. It was long, sweet, and chaste. Simon slowly pulled back. "Yeah, I'd like that."

     "You're not worried about-" Matt said as he gestured to his wrist.

     Simon sighed. Honestly, this was a relief to not have to worry about his situation with his dead soulmate for the first time in three years. Yeah, this may not be forever, but Simon would get the opportunity to experience something close to love for awhile, and he would take what he could get. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. If we can make each other happy for a while, I say we go for it."

     "Cool," Matt said. "You're bottoming next time, by the way."

     Simon faked a grimacing expression. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it!" he teased as he hopped out of bed.

     Matt scoffed. "I want to cross that bridge with you soon, Simon."

     They got dressed, and when they opened the door, there was a crowd of students waiting to see who was getting it on. There were a lot of surprised mixed reactions. Most of them were the typical dog woofs and "ayyyyyyys!", a few "what the fucks", a few laughs, but nothing that Simon was too worried about. He was happier about knowing that the situation with his soulmate wasn't going to severely detriment his life. He looked to Matt, as they went down the stairs holding hands.

     "Are you ok that we sorta just got outed?" Simon asked. 

     Matt took a deep breath and smiled at Simon. "I guess so. It had to happen eventually."

     At the bottom of the stairs was Clary, who was so happy to see Simon. Simon was a little afraid on how their relationship was going to change. She was oblivious to the fact he and Matt were holding hands.

     "Simon! You were upstairs the whole time? Did you find out who was getting it on?" she asked eagerly.

     Simon was about to open his mouth when some random jock clapped Simon on the back and said "Way to go Lewis! Welcome to manhood! You too, Charlton!"

     Clary's jaw dropped and she looked at the two of them holding hands. "You two?"

     "Yup," Simon said nervously. 

     "And I guess we're dating now," Matt said. Clary stood there, shocked and surprised. "I guess I'll give you two some time, and I'll text you," Matt said, giving Simon a kiss on the cheek and grabbing his ass before he walked away into the crowd.

     Clary just turned and headed to the door. "Clary, wait!"

     The two of them were outside, and Clary was quickly descending down the steps of the porch. Simon wasn't too far, but the crowd did slow him down. "Clary, wait up! I don't understand. What are you upset about?"

     "I try to coax you into telling me something to let you know I'm here to support you, and you're all 'Let's put a pin in this convo'," she said, mocking Simon's voice. "And now all of a sudden, you're openly gay or bi or something to the whole school. Why couldn't you trust me with something like this?"

     "It all happened so fast. You're the one that set me up with him. You left us alone, remember. don't act like that wasn't what you were up to," Simon replied, angrily.

     "Maybe so," Clary said. "I was expecting you a kiss at most or just you coming to terms with yourself, not having sex at a party and getting a boyfriend within the hour!"

     "Why is that a big deal, why aren't you happy for me?"

     "You're going to get hurt! He's not your soulmate! This is why we always talked about waiting until we met our soulmates!" she exclaimed.

     "No, Clary.  _You're_ the one always talking about that."

     "But you always agreed with me, why? Why did you always lie to me? Now I feel alone because I'm the only one with this mentality."

     "Because I AM ALONE, CLARY!" Simon snapped. She hadn't looked at him the entire conversation. She was several steps ahead of him the whole time, but this outburst made her turn around and see Simon. He was red in the face and he looked broken, with tears in his eyes. Clary's heart sunk as she looked at him. "My soulmate is DEAD!"

     "What?" she asked in disbelief. "What makes you think that?"

     "I have  _never_ felt a heartbeat, Clary. My soulmate's skin is cold and dry and they never feel anything other than hollow and empty. From the moment I turned 13, there has been  _nothing_ there, nothing!" Simon exclaimed.

     Clary felt so terrible. She walked up to Simon and held him tightly. "Why didn't you ever say anything? Why didn't-"

     "What was I supposed to do? Ruin my birthday party? And at school, everyone that year was all excited about receiving their marks. It's the only thing the kids talked about. I was ostracized and made fun of enough."

     "Simon," Clary said softly as she released him. "You could have told me."

     "I didn't see a point in it," Simon replied. "There's never a good time to just spring on terrible news. Especially when every day with you is so terrific."

     Clary smiled and wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry I was so selfish. Trying to force my ideas on you. I just thought maybe, if I lived this way and you lived this way, we'd spare someone the pain of what Luke went through, you know?"

     "Of course," Simon said. "But I want to be able to experience  _something_. And yeah, it won't last, but while it does, maybe Matt and I can make each other happy. And that counts for something, right?"

     Clary nodded her head up and down. "You deserve to be happy, Simon. I'm just worried about you getting hurt."

     Simon smiled faintly at her. "Don't worry, Fray. I'll be alright."

     Simon and Matt dated for almost a year. Things were great, and they never had any serious fights. But one day, while they were out on a dinner date, the waiter that was serving them noticed Matt's mark. It was an awkward, and uncomfortable moment, but Simon told Matt that it was okay, as long as Matt paid for the dinner that time even though it was is turn. Matt laughed and agreed, and they hugged before Simon walked out of the restaurant. He told the waiter to treat Matt right. He went straight to Clary's later, and they watched romantic movies and ate ice cream.

     Raphael had touched his wrist that night, and felt Simon's pain. This only made the older man feel saddened and empathetic for his lover. Something that night made Simon want to touch his for the first time in a while. He didn't know what he was expecting. The odds of there being anything different were impossible. But he thought maybe this breakup would have fixed the universe. He felt Raphael's cold sadness, and mistook the emptiness for a being who was no longer alive, not knowing the entire truth of the afterlife.

     The next year and a half, it was just Simon and Clary. Simon was a year older, and graduated high school and began to take some community college courses. Clary graduated high school before turning 18, and that's when everything changed.

     They had gone out that night for her birthday. They arrived at a cool club called Pandemonium. They were already to get drunk and let loose. Some guy walked into Clary, and Clary began to curse him out. Simon was a few steps away, and a corner obscured his view. When the entire scene was in view, he couldn't tell who she was fighting with.

     "Can you believe that guy?" Clary asked.

     "I couldn't catch him," Simon said.

     "That guy with the blonde hair!" Clary pointed out. Simon looked, but still saw nothing. They went into the club regardless, and had a great time drinking and dancing the night away. On the other side of the stage, Magnus and some other downworlders, including Raphael, were relaxing, enjoying their evening. 

     "And then I told the man, "You can't have sex with a warlock? I thought you said you can't have sex out of wedlock! Too late, we're married!" Magnus's entourage all laughed at the joke. Raphael rolled his eyes, having heard the story numerous times.

     While Magnus was telling horrible stories of his past, Clary was dancing with Simon when she noticed something odd, causing her to pause. She saw her mom and Luke across the room talking to the blonde man that ran into her. "Oh my god! It's Mom and Luke talking to the guy who ran into me!"

     "What?" Simon asked, turning to look for them. He saw Luke, but not Jocelyn or any blonde guy. "I only see Luke! What's he doing here?"

     "I'll be right back!" Clary darted through the crowd, trying to catch up. She watched as the three of them headed backstage. Picking up her pace, she cut through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. She went up the small metal stairs and headed behind the curtains.

     "Magnus," Jocelyn said. "We have reason to believe a lot of bad downworlders are going to cause a revolt to overthrow you as High Warlock, seize the New York Vampire Clan, and even take out Luke's pack."

     "When and where are they coming?" Magnus asked.

     "I think they're on their way here now," Jocelyn said. "We need to evacuate."

     Magnus listened intently when Clary came in his line of peripheral vision. "Jocelyn, you have a visitor."

     Jocelyn turned around and saw Clary. "You and Simon you were going bowling! What are you doing here?"

     "I didn't want you to worry, what are you doing here? What are you talking about? Warlocks, vampires, and Luke's pack?" Clary questioned.

     "I told you taking her memory was a bad idea," Magnus said.

     "What?" Clary asked.

     "I tried to have this discussion with you earlier, but you said you wanted to wait until tomorrow, so you'll wait until tomorrow. You and Simon need to go now!" she ordered.

     "What's the rush?" a woman's voice asked. She had long, black hair and wore a bright red dress.

     "Camille," Magnus and Raphael both said in unison. 

     She smirked and approached even closer. "Building a vampire clan is no fun if you're tied down to the Accords and can't use your clan to attack a cute party. I'm sorry, Magnus. Our relationships have always been fun, but my new boyfriend wants our throne. And I want to kill some underworlders."

     She put her fingers to her lips and let out a loud whistle. The commotion outside shifted from techno party to a scary commotion of screaming. Camille's soldiers charged into the room with their weapons.

     "Clary, run!" Jocelyn ordered, pushing her out of the way. She ducked behind a chair as Magnus's entourage clashed with the enemy vampires. Clary watched as her mom pulled a sword out of nowhere, and tattoos appeared on her body. Luke roared like a wolf, and she saw claws emerge from his hands.

     "Oh my god," Clary said. "Where is Simon?"

     Clary watched as the rude blonde guy with similar tattoos and a similar sword to her mom's started fighting the evil vampires. She watched in horror as her om slid her sword through another person's body. 

     Clary dashed outside to the main dancefloor to see similar fighting all around. There were bodies all over the ground and Clary felt like she was going to cry. "Simon where are you!?" She ran down the steps and headed over to the area where she thought she left Simon. She was fighting back tears as she looked at every body on the ground, fearful one would be Simon's. She finally saw him through the mass of corpses and quickly got to him. He had been stabbed, but he was still alive. He was groaning and holding his wound.

     "Clary, what the hell is going on?" Simon asked.

     "I have no idea," Clary said. "But mom and Luke are here! They can do something!" She turned back to the direction of the stage. "MOOOOOOM!!! LUUUUUUKE!!! HELP!!!"

     It only took a few moments for Luke, Jocelyn, Magnus, and Raphael to come running. The enemy vampires had been slain by the warlocks, werewolves, good vampires, and Shadowhunters in the crowd.

     "Oh my god, Simon," Jocelyn said, kneeling down. 

     "Mrs. Fray," Simon groaned. "When did you get those tattoos?"

     Jocelyn chuckled, tears flowing in her eyes. Raphael was dumbfounded at how a mundane could be cracking a joke on his deathbed. He smelled the blood coming from the boy. It smelled sweeter, and more delectable than blood usually was, but he was good at standing strong and not giving in to temptation.

     "Magnus, you have to heal him. This is our second son, practically. His mother and sister already lost their father. They can't lose him too!" Jocelyn pleaded with tears in his eyes.

     "I depleted my magic on freezing Camille and teleporting her to the Clave, I can find another Warlock, maybe," Magnus said.

     "There's no time, Luke, bite him!" Jocelyn begged.

     "He won't survive the bite, not like this," Luke said.

     "He's not surviving anyways," Jocelyn said. "Raphael, please, turn him!"

     Rapahel looked astonished. He barely knew Jocelyn and Luke. He only knew Magnus. "I have made vows to never bite a mundane or turn one. I'm not going to start now. "besides, being a vampire is a difficult curse to bear. Do you want to condemn him to that out of selfishness?" He waved his hand in the air, dramatic-like, to emphasize his point. Raphael would look back on that moment in the future. How different would things have been if he was rational, or waved his left hand instead of his right? He would have lost so much in his life. But he chose to make a dramatic point. He chose to flail his right hand. And that girl chose to come to Pandemonium on her birthday.

     Clary grabbed Raphael's hand, and Raphael pulled her away. "Let go of me, child!" he yelled. "I'm not fixing your friend!"

     "Your wrist! Your wrist! Let me see your wrist!" Clary pleaded. The tears in her eyes were numerous, and she was desperate, and Raphael was annoyed. He had just been attacked and betrayed by Camille, and wasn't in the mood for these mundane issues when he was wrapping his head around how he was supposed to fix everything. He responded too late and Magnus grabbed his hand for him and yanked it for Clary to see. Raphael will never forget that amazed smile Clary had on her otherwise broken face. It was the face Magnus gave him when he saw Raphael go all night with his rosary. It was the look his mother had for him the first time she saw him as a vampire. It was the next in a series of life changing looks.

     "You're Simon's soul mate! You're his soul mate!" Clary eagerly said as she took Simon's left hand from his wound and flipped his wrist over. Raphael felt his unmoving heart sink several feet in his body and the air escape his lungs. He staggered backwards a bit, Magnus catching him. Jocelyn and Luke looked at Raphael expectantly.

     "What are you waiting for?" Magnus said. "That boy, that dying boy is the one you've waited over eighty years for, Raphael. You went all those years thinking he was dead. You became a changed man for the better when you found out he was alive. If you don't hurry, you're back at square one."

     Raphael gently nodded and slowly got down to the ground. He was so afraid, so caught off guard. Here was the love of his life, already dying on their first introduction. Simon was panting, and slowly looked into Raphael's eyes. Raphael thought his eyes were beautiful.

     "You're cute," Simon said weakly. 

     Raphael began to tear up and he let out one laugh, making himself smile in this tough situation. He grabbed Simon's hand and held it, bringing it up to his mouth. "This will hurt, but after this, you won't have to hurt anymore I'll be here, I'll always be here, and I'm never letting you go."

     Simon smiled, barely, for he didn't have that much strength. Raphael bit into Simon's arm, drinking from him. Simon winced from the pain, and the feeling of the high from the vampire venom entering his body. 

     "Stay awake as long as possible, Simon," Magnus ordered. "It'll be hard since you're wounded, but the longer you stay awake, the more vampire venom you'll have and the better chances you have at turning."

     "Simon," Clary begged. "I love you. You're my best friend. I can't go on in this world without you."

     Simon shed a tear before he closed his eyes to the darkness.

* * *

 

     

     Raphael had buried Simon next to his own burial site at the Hotel DuMort. The good vampires that Camille couldn't corrupt stayed and fought the evil ones. Shadowhunters from the Institute were doing interrogations to make sure the ones still alive were truly innocent. Clary, Raphael, Magnus, Jocelyn, and Luke all waited in the garden.

     "I'm worried," Raphael said. "I have been denied this for so long. It would only be fitting for me to be denied again."

     "No," Jocelyn said. "Simon is one of the strongest characters I've ever met. He went through so much with his family. His father's passing, his mother's drinking. They all persevered."

     "Not to mention," Luke stated. "That the boy never shuts up. So I have no doubt he'll come back and talk our ears off for all eternity."

     "Luke," Jocelyn said sternly.

     "No mom, Luke's right," Clary said. "The world is brighter with Simon's voice. His talking, his singing. The world won't let itself lose that."

     A hand reached up through the dirt and Raphael quickly grabbed it, pulling Simon up from the dirt. Simon was coughing the dirt from out of his lungs. "Can someone explain to me everything that's just happened?"

     "Drink these first," Raphael said, opening a cooler with packaged blood. "All of them."

     "What is this?" he asked.

     "Juice boxes," Raphael lied, putting one up to his mouth. Simon instinctively drank from the package, resting his hand on top of Raphael's instead of grabbing it for himself. It was a slight comfort for Raphael. The blood pack was empty and Raphael removed it.

     "That wasn't juice," Simon said.

     "Was it good?" Raphael asked, grabbing another one.

     Simon looked pensive. "Sort of."

     "Drink another," Raphael ordered, putting another to his mouth. "We have a lot to discuss. It's going to be overwhelming, and scary." Raphael looked over his shoulder to see Magnus, smiling at him. He turned back to Simon. "But I am going to help you through everything. I'll look after you. And if I can be anywhere near as great as a mentor as Magnus was to me, you're going to be just fine."

     The second blood pack was empty. Simon looked deeply at the handsome man in front of him. "So you're my soulmate?"

     Raphael smirked slightly. "It would appear so."

     He never had the opportunity to picture who his soulmate would be. But he took in the man in the dazzling formal wear, slicked stylish jet black hair, and a cute, cocky smile. He was more than happy with his results. Simon cupped Raphael's face and brought him in for a kiss. Raphael was scared, he was eighty years old and about to experience his first kiss. Their lips met, and Raphael relaxed into it. He wrapped his arms around the boy he had just met and turned. His body felt like everything Raphael had always been missing. He was finally here with him, in his arms. He could feel Simon tangibly, and he was no longer an abstract on his wrist. There was so much running through his mind right now, about the things he wanted to tell Simon, about the things he wanted to hear and wanted to know about his soulmate. They had so much catching up to do, and so much getting to know each other. Simon felt the same. He had questions about what just happened, and what was happening right now.

     But the wants could all come later. The only thing Raphael and Simon needed right now in this moment was the touch of each other's love.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I live for your comments! Check out my other Saphael work! More Saphael work in the near future!


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